What We Can Part With
by Mara Greengrass
Summary: “You okay?” Daniel asked eventually.


TITLE: What We Can Part With   
SUMMARY: "You okay?" Daniel asked eventually.  
CONTINUITY/SPOILERS: This takes place between Season 8 and Season 9. No spoilers except casting and character disposition at the beginning of Season 9.  
DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, the Sci Fi Channel, and Gekko Productions. I'm making absolutely no money from this.  
NOTES: For Angelsgracie on her birthday, 7/20/06. Azar kindly provided a plotbunny when I was flailing.

* * *

To: SGTeamscheyennemountain.af.mil From: Jack.ONeillcheyennemountain.af.mil Subject: House Cooling Party

You are more-or-less cordially invited to help me say goodbye to my house and Colorado Springs on July 15th at 2 PM. Whatever's left in the house will be up for grabs, so be the first to snag a vintage 70s coffee table.

I'll provide the grill, the booze, and the burgers. If you want anything else, you can bring it yourself, ya lazy bums.

The address is...

* * *

Despite Jack's attempts to capture memories, the afternoon and evening flew by in a blur of meat and beer and laughter. So many familiar faces and so many missing as well. With the ease of long habit, Jack pushed that thought aside to deal with later.

Now, the last people (not his team anymore) were heading home--Teal'c gently teasing him, Sam hiding her teasing behind a façade of respect...He chivvied them out the door with assurances that he would be fine in his empty house.

Daniel propped his feet up on a low brick retaining wall and took a long drink of beer.

"I thought you were leaving," Jack said, eyebrows raised.

"Are you kicking me out?"

Jack rolled his eyes, not bothering to answer. Grabbing a bottle of water, he sat down next to Daniel, propping his feet up on the wall as well.

Darkness had descended an hour before, but a few floodlights kept the yard from feeling dark. The crickets' drone was so loud it almost drowned out the music still playing on Jack's old boombox in the living room.

Daniel tilted his head, frowning. "Who put on Kool and the Gang?"

"Teal'c. Somebody's been teaching him about 70s music." Jack rubbed his forehead. "I have no idea who. You can go change it if you care enough."

"Hmm." Daniel leaned back in his chair.

They listened to the crickets and watched the fireflies.

"You okay?" Daniel asked eventually.

Jack considered and rejected three responses. "Yeah."

Daniel chuckled.

"What?"

"You never change."

"Sure I do. Why, just the other day, I stopped to smell a flower. I think it was a rose. It was red, anyway."

Daniel shook his head, drinking a little more beer. "I can't believe you're going to Washington."

"That's President Hayes' work. I'm amazed the Air Force promoted me to Major General." Jack shrugged. "But if there's one thing I've learned in the Stargate program, it's how to believe six impossible things before breakfast."

Putting his empty beer bottle down, Daniel took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

"Are you okay? You look tired."

"Just stayed up too late last night on that mural from P3X-279." He shrugged. "I've got a lot of work to do before I leave. Of course, the Daedalus won't be back for a while, but still."

"Yeah, you've got quite a backlog."

"And everyone wants one more consult."

Jack watched Daniel out of the corner of his eye for a little while, then went to get them both a beer. Daniel raised his eyebrows at him, but took the beer.

"So we're all leaving," Jack said.

Daniel didn't look at him. "Mm-hmm. I'm off to Atlantis, Sam's going to Area 51, and Teal'c's going to join the Jaffa High Council. Better him than me."

Jack leaned back in his chair and stared up at the sky, wondering if he should turn off the floodlights so they could see the stars. Nah. It would only be another minute or so before--

"I didn't even want to be on your team!" Daniel still wasn't looking at him.

"I seem to recall something about that." Jack rolled his head, trying to stretch out a crick in his neck.

Daniel turned in his chair and glared at him. "Damn it, I'm not joking."

"I know." He waited.

Daniel took a deep breath, then another, and Jack could see some of the tension bleed out of his body. "Okay," Daniel said, "I admit it. Part of me doesn't want things to change."

"Things change, grasshopper."

"I hate you," Daniel muttered.

"I know, isn't it great?" Jack grinned his absolutely most infuriating grin.

Slumping back, Daniel threw his hands in the air. "I give up. You, Jack O'Neill, are the most annoying and aggravating person I've ever met. I have no idea why I'd be sorry to see you leave."

"I'll miss you, too, Daniel."

Daniel shook his head, muttering something under his breath in a language that definitely wasn't English.

"But it was time, you know that. I'm slowing down. I needed..." Jack found it harder to say than he'd expected. "I needed to get out of the field before I got anyone killed."

Daniel opened his mouth. "Uh uh! Let me finish," Jack said, waving a finger. Daniel closed his mouth. "I'm good at what I do, and it's time I take that knowledge up another level. Even if it means leaving here, leaving all of you."

For a long moment, Daniel studied him, although Jack wasn't sure what he was looking for. Daniel nodded once and that was apparently that.

"We're good?" He had to check.

"Yes, Jack, we're good."

Jack held out his hand, Daniel shook it, and they leaned back in their chairs and propped their legs up on the retaining wall again.

"I haven't heard anything about the new SG-1," Daniel said. "Are they promoting SG-2?"

"Hey, we're so memorable they have to retire our number." Jack smirked at Daniel.

"Jack..."

Jack grinned up at the sky. "Don't worry about it, Daniel."

Daniel peered at him with suspicion. "You know something."

"I know lots of things. I know how to strip and clean more weapons than you've ever seen, even counting that time on P2Y-989. I know--"

"Jack!"

"Hmm?"

Daniel groaned theatrically. "You're not going to tell me, are you?"

"Nah. It'll be lots more fun for you to find out on your own." Jack leaned back in his seat, looking forward to the phone calls and e-mails he was going to get when one Cameron Mitchell arrived at Cheyenne Mountain.

Hey, if he was stuck in the literal and figurative swamp that was Washington, DC, he'd need something to amuse him, right?

--end--


End file.
